He'd loved the roping competition when he'd been sixteen. Had thought it was going to be his winning ticket out of TaylorHills.
Until Jimmy ditchedhim.
He still liked watching the cowboys working in pairs. Could still remember the feel of the lasso, stiff in his palm, sailing out over his head. The high ofwinning.
He still hadn't shaken the uber-awareness of his surroundings that his time in prison had instilled in him. If someone accidentally brushed against him, he jumped amile.
Which meant he caught the slight movements to his right as a kid-sized body sidled up to the arenafence.
Dan squinted into the shadows. Brady. The doc's... sort-ofkid.
He'd been quiet when they'd fetched the doc's bag from probably the only sedan on the property earlier. It'd been as out of place as the doc in her slacks with her hair up behind herhead.
It went to show how small Dan's world had become. Sequestered on the ranch all the time. By his ownchoice.
He didn't have enough distractions. He'd thought of little besides the pretty doctor since he’d seen her both in her office and at the gas station. That glimpse of pain that had crossed her features... it had hit some kind of old-fashioned dinner triangle inside him. He still felt the echo ofit.
And now the kid had snuck out here. Dan didn't have to do much guesswork to figure out why the kid was hiding in the darkestshadows.
Dan's senses tingled again, and he turned his head the other direction. Miles, Nate's boy, sidled up on his oppositeside.
"Hey," Miles greetedhim.
"Nice ride," Dansaid.
Miles was the other person, besides Kelsey, who didn't seem to hold Dan's crimes against him. Maybe because the two of them hadn't known Dan before. Nate and his wife Kayla had adopted the boy just last year, the paperwork coming through just about the same time their baby girl had beenborn.
"My rope slipped," Miles said. "I lost a good half second for ourteam."
Movement from his other side. Brady was edging closer. Was the boy trying to listen to theirconversation?
Dan turned to look at him. "You met Miles O'Malleyyet?"
Brady's eyes caught a reflection from some light behind Dan, shining and about the only thing he could see of the boy in theshadows.
His eyes narrowed. He seemed unsure whether to run off or join theconversation.
Apparently Miles rated high, because Brady stepped into the light. "That was you riding? Androping?"
Miles smiled. You'd never know the kid had been an orphan before. He had an easy manner, helped in his mom's dog rescue. Loved to talk maybe more than he loveddogs.
"Yeah, that was me. What's your name? You new intown?"
"We just moved here. I'mBrady."
The boys knocked fists. They were probably two years apart. Miles was older. Brady could do a lot worse forfriends.
"How'd you learn how to do that stuff?" Brady almost bounced inexcitement.
"My dad taught me to ride." The pride in Miles's voice was easy tohear.
And Dan couldn't help the pinch in his gut. Nate was a good dad. Had been a good friend, until Dan had thrown everything away. That itch between his shoulder blades started inbad.
Miles's gaze slide to Dan. "I think Scottie is going to quit, though. He wants to play football, and his dad said he couldn't rodeo and playsports."
"Bummer," Dansaid.
There was a beat of quiet. The bell rang, and two adult riders flew out of the gate on their horses, making quick work of roping and tying off asteer.
